


Of Courtship and War

by Sunshinesque



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Also King Rhoam just wants the best for Zelda/Hyrule but is being problematic, Arranged Marriage, Calamity, Canon-ish, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Link is bad at feelings and Zelda is stubborn AF, Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda) Fluff, POV Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Pre-Breath of the Wild, Romance, Slow Burn, Wartime Romance, Zelda is FULL OF RESENT but also her knight attendant is pretty cute, Zelda/Impa friendship, also the calamity is still a thing, and impa is playing the supportive BFF who is over all of this denial, zelink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28747740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshinesque/pseuds/Sunshinesque
Summary: King Rhoam believes it is time for Zelda to find a suitor strong enough to defend Hyrule from the return of the calamity. Zelda disagrees. Link is complicit in the King's search until he's, well, not. Multi-chapter fic, WIP.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 85





	1. Of Birthdays & First Impressions

He finally said it on a Tuesday morning in late August.

“Zelda, it is time for you to begin your courting process.”

She had entered the grand hall just a few minutes prior, having been famished from her morning spent outside in the courtyard.The late summer always brought thick humidity and rainfall to Hyrule, which meant the gardens and walkways were nearly all covered in slick mud -- which just so happened to be the perfect setting for excavating new critters to study. 

“Courting process?” Zelda repeated, distractedly pulling out the chair perpendicular to her father. She had been so busy trying to hide the mud stains coating the bottom layer of her dress that she missed the strained sound of him clearing his throat, the solemn shadow covering his face.

“Yes, my daughter. Courting process.” The King waved his hand to a servant standing nearby, who quickly came to clear away his plates. Zelda couldn’t remember a time that her father hadn’t waited for her to consume their daily breakfast of tea and honey crepes together -- until today, that is.

Zelda sat down and finally took the opportunity to look around the grand hall. While the hall was usually reserved for large balls and diplomatic visits, she and her father frequently ate their meals within it, enjoying the beauty of its stained-glass windows and grandiose ceilings. However, it was during these observations that Zelda noticed that she and her father were alone -- another extremely rare occurrence for the two of them. It was only after this that the weight of her father’s words seemed to penetrate her mind, and she abruptly snapped her head up to face him.

“What?! But, father, today is my seventeenth birthday,” she sputtered, struggling to keep the distress out of her voice. “I have only a year before the prophecy speaks of the Calamity returning. Should I not be spending my time continuing my prayers and studies?”

“Exactly, my daughter. One year,” her father repeated, his eyes downcast. “And yet, you still have not awakened your powers, we still have not found the chosen knight, and we still have no inclination as to how we should be preparing for such a devastation.” 

“B-But I’ve been trying!” Zelda stammered, tugging at the long braid slung over her shoulder. “Every day I pray and study and do what I can to inspire this power within me.”

Her father sighed and looked up at her, their eyes meeting for the first time all morning. “And where has that taken us?”

Zelda opened her mouth to respond, but no words made their way out. He was right -- she spent every day for the last ten years calling on the ancient gods, and yet, she had not awakened any of the powers foretold by her ancestors.

“Well, what of the appointed knight, then? Hylia’s chosen?” Zelda pressed. “He may be out there already fulfilling his role in the prophecy, but we’ve yet to find him. Not all hope is lost.”

“You are correct,” the King said evenly. “We still have the chosen knight to count on.” He then lowered his voice, once again averting his eyes from his daughter towards the floor. “But I grow old and tired, Zelda. I cannot defend this kingdom without additional help. We need allies.”

“Allies?!” Zelda shouted, incredulous. “Allies?! You are hoping to begin my courting process for the prospect of allies?!” She was tugging at her braid so hard that she was afraid she might tear the entirety of it straight from her scalp. 

“Yes, Zelda. Allies,” her father said sharply. “You’ve known from a young age that you would likely end up in an arranged marriage. Countless generations of Hyrulian Royal Family members have married strategically for the greater good of our kingdom, our people -- you must have known this was a possibility.”

Zelda huffed and leaned back in her chair, slamming her eyes shut. She and her father had never discussed Zelda’s future marriage prior to today, so while she knew an arranged marriage was not entirely out of the question, she did not believe the conversation would be happening so soon in her adult life.

“Yes, father, I had considered it -- but not this soon, and not without any indication from you beforehand.”

“I understand your frustrations regarding my brashness, and for that, I apologize,” said the King, another sigh leaving his lips. “But I’ve had several discussions with my advisors, and we think that it’d best to begin the process today, as you are now officially of age.”

“Today?!” Zelda replied, shocked. 

“Correct.” The King lifted himself from his chair, leaning on the wooden table in front of him for support. The headache behind his eyes was apparent from the clenching of his jaw, a tell-tale sign that they had only minutes before her father would have to retire to his room to rest. “We’ve arranged a ball tonight, and there will be several suitors attending from our neighboring kingdoms. I’d like for you to converse with them and think about which one will be the most advantageous in the event that the Calamity returns.”

Zelda’s eyes swept over her father’s portly figure and solemn face, searching for answers. While the two of them disagreed frequently on the affairs of the kingdom, the King always took Zelda’s thoughts and opinions into consideration. However, Zelda could tell that this time, her father was firm in his decision. Her stomach churned at the thought.

“How could you be so...so cavalier about my future livelihood?” Zelda replied quietly, frustrated tears prickling at the corners of her eyelids. “You seem as though your mind is already made up, that this decision is final.”

“It is final, Zelda.” The King locked eyes with his daughter. “We must always do what is right for our kingdom, even if it means doing wrong by our hearts. I only hope that I will live to see the day that you finally understand this.” With one final exhale, the King pushed himself off of the table and began walking down the length of the hall. Zelda remained alone, fully-formed tears now spilling freely and silently down her cheeks.

\--

“You knew of this and told me nothing?!”

“When the King trusts you with a secret, you keep it,” Impa replied. She sat cross-legged atop Zelda’s desk in the corner of her bedchamber, arms folded as she amusedly watched servants fuss around the princess in preparation for the night’s events. Zelda stood in front of a floor-length mirror, one handmaiden tightly tugging on the strings of her corset from behind while another delicately placed ivory pearls throughout her braided hair. Zelda hated the way her servants attended to her at times -- the entire dressing process took four hours from start to finish, and the princess had just about exasperated the last of her patience.

“You shouldn’t keep it when it has to do with the livelihood of your sworn-protected,” Zelda muttered, wincing as the handmaiden from behind her roughly pulled the corset’s strings into a knot. “How did my father even manage to keep this ball a secret from me for the last several months?”

“It’s not hard to keep a secret from you, Princess,” replied Impa, a small smile on her face. “You’re always so preoccupied outdoors during the summer months that you probably didn’t even think to question the several different contractors entering the castle each day.”

Zelda had to admit that Impa wasn’t wholly incorrect. It was only after she left the great hall that morning when she began to notice the elegant state the castle was in: long curtains of luxurious silk and velvet adorned every archway and column, while the floors and windows glistened from weeks of scrubbing and polishing. She had even somehow overlooked the several banquet tables covered with flowers and ivy near the castle’s entrance, as well as a small wooden stage that had been set-up in the rear corner of the grand hall, presumably for the court’s string orchestra. Zelda had shuddered when she saw the stage, knowing that it meant she would be spending several hours dancing with potential suitors.

“Still,” Zelda said, her hands toying with the bottom of her corset. “I am shocked all the same that you, my closest confidant and friend, chose to conceal this from me.”

Impa sighed, jumping atop from where she sat perched on Zelda's desk. She made her way over to the princess, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and meeting Zelda’s eyes in the mirror.

“I apologize, Princess. But I do think this is for the best,” Impa said, her mouth twisting into a thin line. “The Sheikah have vowed to protect you and this kingdom for all of eternity, and eternity is not possible if we succumb to the Calamity. Allies are not only nice to have in this fight -- they are necessary.” Then, Impa laughed, squeezing Zelda’s shoulder a bit tighter. “And, according to Urbosa, most of these suitors are also nice in other ways, too.”

Zelda’s gasped, swatting Impa’s hand away. “Impa! You are not to imply that I might actually enjoy picking out a suitor, are you?!”

Impa put her arms up in mock-defeat, grinning impishly as she retreated a few steps away. “All I mean is that these men are quite accomplished -- it’s not like you’re picking from the bottom of the barrel. One is a fine horseman, one speaks 15 different languages, and another is a champion fighter. I don’t think attraction will be an issue, Princess.”

Zelda sighed, chewing her bottom lip. While it was true that her experiences with eligible men were limited to the handful of balls she had attended with her father, she had also read through the entire royal library -- including several stories regarding romance and courting. Sometimes, as she flipped through the pages of love letters nearly lost to history, she found herself longing for the opportunity to experience a flame of her own; to share in secret midnight promenades, to picnic on rich sands, or to even…

Zelda blushed. Perhaps Impa was right: perhaps these suitors wouldn’t be so terrible. And even if they were, the purpose of her courtship was not enjoyment, but for the protection of her people. Romance -- no matter how badly she yearned for it -- would not win a war. She turned around and cleared her throat, her servants stepping back slightly and bowing. 

“Thank you for your help today,” Zelda said, addressing the room at large. “However, I wish to dismiss you all, and to have Impa finish helping me dress. Please enjoy an early dinner and extended break, and I thank you for your help.” 

Her handmaiden bowed graciously, cooing soft gratitudes as they exited Zelda’s bedchamber one by one. Zelda followed them to the door, firmly shutting it once the last woman had exited.

“Impa, will you please help me into my dress?” Zelda implored, spinning away from the door and striding back to the mirror. “Goddess, I can’t believe I shall have to wear this gown all night long. The ball is several hours long -- I should be so lucky if I can still breathe by its end.”

“I think it’s lovely, Princess,” Impa said, making her way over to where the gown lay on Zelda’s bed. “Have you even tried it on yet?”

“I have not,” Zelda said truthfully, eying the dress. “But look at the different crystals and pearls on it -- how much do you think it weighs?”

“It surely can’t be as heavy as the weight of our kingdom on your shoulders,” Impa quipped with a smirk, feeling the gown’s fabric beneath her finger-tips. She then looked up at Zelda. “And look on the bright side -- maybe if a suitor spins you hard enough, one of the jewels will fly off and puncture him.”

“Ha-ha,” dead-panned Zelda. “That’s one way to cut down the competition.”

Impa grabbed the straps of the gown and delicately plucked the garment off of the bed, bringing it closer to the princess. “You know, I wasn’t aware that dressing you fell into my duties as a Sheikah.”

“It does after you’ve spent the last few months lying to me,” Zelda chirped, tossing Impa a sly smile. “And besides,” Zelda looked down. “You’re the only person who could possibly help lift my spirits before this miserable night.”

Impa’s face softened, and she nodded understandingly towards the princess. “Whatever I can do, Zelda. Now, lift up your arms.”

Zelda obliged, and Impa slipped the heavy material over the princess’s head and arms, shimmying the fabric down her body until the two thick straps rested as they should on Zelda’s shoulders. She then buttoned up the dress’s bodice, smoothed out its fabric, and smiled proudly from behind Zelda into the mirror. “Now, would you look at that.”

Zelda stared at her reflection, not quite recognizing the woman standing in front of her. The gown, made of Hyrule’s finest spun silk, shone magnificently in the candlelight of her room. Her eyes moved lower, eyeing the beautiful way the ivory white bodice of the dress was embroidered with intricate golden designs, a belt of pearls and crystals glistening at her waistline. The bodice of the dress fit snugly across her torso, and below it spilled several layers of white and gold silk. 

Zelda’s eyes surveyed her appearance for a few moments longer, her hands making their way to her head. The top half of her hair was twisted into an elegant crown braid, the same pearls and crystals from the gown peppered throughout her tresses. The rest of her hair cascaded down her shoulders, loose curls bouncing against her bare back from even the slightest turn of her head. She lightly touched the jewels in her hair, marveling at the way they sparkled against the blonde.

“You look like the Goddess Hylia herself,” said Impa, finally breaking the silence of Zelda’s bedchamber. “I’m sure you will have no trouble finding a suitor tonight.”

“Thank you,” Zelda said, suddenly feeling quite flushed. “You don’t think this is too much?”

“It is your birthday, after all,” said Impa. “You can never be overdressed at your own party.”

\--

Two Dukes had stepped on her right foot while waltzing, another Duke on her left. A neighboring Prince had placed his hands a bit too low on her back, while an Earl whispered quite explicit promises into her ear over a Gerudo Waltz. She had a pleasant time dancing with the Czar of Kenniston, though -- he was sweet, humorous and handsome -- that is, until Impa cut in to alert the Princess that he was already betrothed to a distant cousin of hers in Termina, who was watching angrily from the champagne table.

“How are your feet?” Impa asked, helping Zelda into a wooden chair she had dragged over to a small alcove near the orchestra, concealed by a velvet curtain. 

“What feet?” Zelda asked, pushing a few pieces of loose hair from her forehead. “I have only bloody stubs at the ends of my legs, now.”

Impa barked out a laugh. “Well, I’m glad to see you still have your wits about you.” She quickly pulled the curtain back an inch so she could peer back into the ballroom. “Well, Sir ‘Handsy’ appears to be talking himself up to the Duchess of Edenton -- that oughta distract him for at least a bit. And the Czar has almost drunk himself to sleep. That means you only have a few suitors left to meet -- think you can last another hour?”

Zelda groaned, huffing and fanning her chest. “If the dancing doesn’t kill me, surely this corset will,” she said. “How long do you think I have before my father notices my absence?”

“Hmm, I’m not entirely sure,” Impa said, her eyes still scanning the ballroom. While the grand hall was enormous, it still struggled to contain the copious amounts of guests scattered throughout. Not only did the King invite every potential suitor and diplomat from all neighboring countries -- he also invited every noteworthy family throughout Hyrule. This included all four designated Champions and their families, the entire Royal Guard, and the castle’s finest artists, merchants and vendors. 

To say that Zelda’s seventeen birthday was crowded would be an understatement.

“I just need a few minutes alone,” Zelda said, looking at Impa’s back with pleading eyes. “Please? Will you provide me with cover?”

Impa made the mistake of turning around to meet Zelda’s gaze, in which she could not ignore the true misery present in the Princess’ eyes. 

“Fine,” Impa relented, although a bit hesitantly. “But only for a few minutes, okay? Take the door to the left of the orchestra -- it will lead you into the left wing’s garden. The music will surely be too loud for anyone to hear you sneak out.” She narrowed her eyes at Zelda. “And only for a few minutes.”

“Thank you!” Zelda said, beaming. She shot up from her seat, swiftly stepping out of her heeled shoes. “Will you please watch these for me, as well?”

“Great, now I’m on shoe patrol,” Impa muttered, glaring at the offending golden sandals. “Thank you for your generous promotions today, Princess.”

Zelda rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the small upward tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you again, Impa.” She quickly pulled the velvet curtain back and ducked her way underneath it, all but sprinting towards the garden’s entrance. Once she safely navigated her way past the orchestra, she quietly slipped through the garden’s doors, quickly pulling them shut behind her.

As soon as the chill of the late summer night hit her exposed arms, the princess sighed in relief and shut her eyes. “Freedom,” she said to herself, a smile gracing her lips as she embraced the quiet darkness of the garden. An aroma of freshly cut roses entered her nose, and she pressed her hot forehead against the cool metal of the door frame.

“Er, hello.”

Zelda spun around in surprise, a small gasp emitting from her throat. “Who goes there? This is a private garden!” She shouted, surveying the area. The left wing’s courtyard was notoriously small, with only enough space to fit a moderately sized marble fountain, two stone benches and several rose bushes. She squinted her eyes in an attempt to see into the darkness of the night.

“I apologize, Miss...my father was with the Royal Guard, and he had recommended I come here if I needed a reprieve from the castle” said a man’s voice, hesitant and low. Zelda then spotted his black figure in front of the fountain, unmoving. She began to blink rapidly, hoping to bring his features into focus. He seemed to be around her age, although not much taller than herself -- she could make out blonde hair, a pair of shining brown riding boots, and a glistening sword attached to the man’s belt.

“Who are you? And who is your father?” Zelda replied, still on the defensive. She took a step towards the man, closing the distance between them. It was then that their gaze met for the first time -- the man glanced down at her with piercing blue eyes, jaw clenched as they drank in each other’s appearances. The man was handsome, Zelda noted -- his golden hair was tied messily at the base of his neck, a few stray pieces falling into his eyes and partially covering a small scar above his eyebrow. He adorned simple clothes, though the princess noted that they fit him well; a white dress tunic stretched over his taut chest, and brown riding pants snuggly hugged his waist and thighs. He was clearly not royalty, neither a potential suitor -- and yet, Zelda was perplexed by the immediate attraction she felt towards him.

“My father was the previous head of the royal guard. He passed away a few months ago,” said the man, eyes still locked with Zelda’s. “Since then, I’ve been training to replace his post, although I’ve yet to make my way to the castle.”

Zelda listened carefully, curious about the information he had just relayed to her. She was familiar with the majority of the Royal Guard and knew most of them by name, as they were stationed on rotation throughout every room of the castle. They even lived in a large quarters on the east side of the grounds, although Zelda had never been ventured into that area (her father forbade it). However, she couldn't remember ever seeing a guard as young as this man in the castle -- in fact, she didn't even think it was allowed for a knight to be as young as the man in front of her.

“So what brings you here tonight?” Implored the princess, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Thought you would sneak in to partake in the festivities?”

“No, never!” said the man, a tint of pink crossing his nose. He raised his hand to ruffle the hair on the back of his head, suddenly shy. “I received an invitation from the King for the Princess’s birthday, and I was hoping to meet her before I joined the guard. My family has served the Royal Family for centuries, so I was hoping to properly introduce myself.”

Zelda studied the man, suddenly quiet. Did he not know who she was? It was possible, Zelda thought. While she regularly made appearances throughout the kingdom in her youth, her father hadn't hosted a formal even since she was fifteen, claiming them to be too distracting for her studies. She had changed a bit since then -- but could he really not tell? 

“And?” She began, her arms now folded in front of her. “Have you met her yet?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” he said, his eyes falling downcast. “It turns out that there were more invitees than I originally thought, so I haven’t been able to. I'm also afraid I might not recognize her if I saw her.”

“Come again?” said Zelda, unable to hide her surprise. “You’re entering the royal guard and you’re not even sure who the Princess is?”

The man cleared his throat, clearly uneasy. “Well, er, not exactly. I’ve heard of her beauty before: long golden hair, a smile of the Goddess --“ Zelda blushed, “-- but my father was rather secretive about the Royal Family, as he should have been, I suppose. Plus, the King and Princess haven't shown their face in years. Any one of these nobles could be the princess." 

“I see,” Zelda hummed, eyes meeting the man’s. She was shocked -- it was a rare occurrence in which she interacted with someone who did not know her identity. But the man was right: the nearer the Calamity approached, the more inward her father drew. The two of them rarely left the castle, let alone opened up its doors for a ball. But the man seemed honest, and Zelda did not wish to end the charade so quickly, not when he was the first male that hadn’t fawned and fluttered around her all night. In fact, she quite enjoyed his humble, calm demeanor. “And your name?

“Link,” the man said, bowing slightly towards Zelda and picking up her hand to kiss her knuckles. She blushed -- while this greeting was customary of men in Hyrule, she still found her stomach twisting excitedly as his lips touched her skin. He dropped her hand, straightening his back to smile softly at her. “And what is yours?”

“My father is a craftsman for the castle,” Zelda responded quickly, trying to hide the distress in her voice. She was not ready to let go of her anonymity -- not yet, at least. “We arrived just a few moments ago.”

“A craftsman? What kind?” said Link. “If he’s a blacksmith, I’d love to know where to find him -- I have a few pieces of weaponry that I’m hoping to sell.”

“We traveled here from Termina,” Zelda said quickly, praying that the conversation move to a more neutral subject. “We do quite well for ourselves.”

“I can tell,” Link said, his eyes traveling down the length of her gown. Then, as if suddenly realizing what he had done, his gaze snapped back up towards her face, eyes wide. “Er, I only meant because your dress is beautiful,” Link ventured, motioning towards Zelda’s gown. He smiled shyly. “You’re beautiful.”

Zelda found herself, for once, at a loss for words. After a night of receiving the grandest compliments she had heard in her life (“I’ll bring you the Moon Goddess herself, Zelda!" had proclaimed one of the dukes an hour ago), it took only three words from Link to send Zelda’s heart into her stomach.

“Thank you,” Zelda said quietly. “And thank you for letting me join your company. I imagine you came out here to be alone.”

“Not exactly,” Link said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I came out here because I knew it was my father’s favorite location in the castle. I thought that, maybe if I came here, I would be able to sense his presence, you know?” Link cast his eyes upwards, admiring the stars in the sky while chuckling. “Ridiculous, I know.”

Zelda felt her mouth turn upwards in a small smile, shaking her head. “That is, quite honestly, the most sane thought I’ve heard in quite some time.” She took one step closer to Link, placing her hand on his shoulder and joining his gaze at the stars. “I lost my mother a few years ago, as well. I feel her so strongly when I visit her most frequented reading spots, it’s as if she is still with me.”

“Exactly, yes,” Link said, turning his head to beam at her. “It’s so incredibly peaceful, being at a place you know they liked.” She could feel his breath tickling her cheek, and she turned her head down to face him. It was only then that she noticed how close the two of them were to each other -- she could even feel a loose strand of his hair tickling her forehead.

Zelda didn't dare think of the trouble she would be in if her and Link were found in this state. Her father would be furious if he knew that the princess was alone with a suitor, let alone a regular townsman. But Zelda relished the quietness of this moment with Link, and the solitude she was so rarely granted. She was watched by knights and handmaidens throughout the entire day, her only reprieves coming from the moments she slept and the mornings she could sneak out into the gardens while the knights changed posts. There seemed to be an energy emitting from her and Link in the courtyard, one that Zelda found intoxicating; a freeing, dangerous, electrifying energy.

It felt as though all of the air had suddenly been sucked out of her lungs as the two of them faced each other, breathing in sync. She watched Link’s eyes glance downward to her lips, not of his own accord -- and she felt hers do the same. He smelt of wood and musk, an intoxicating combination that seemed to be enticing her closer...

“Princess Zelda, you’ve been out here for long enough!” Impa shouted, kicking the doorway to the garden open. “Sir ‘Handsy’ is causing a commotion in the ballroom, and the King is speaking to the Orchestra about playing a birthday hymn for you.”

Zelda and Link sprung apart from each other, realization dawning on both of their faces as to just how close they had been.

“Princess...Zelda?” Link said, eyes shining with disbelief. She thought she saw something flash across his face -- hurt, perhaps? Confusion? -- before he dropped his head and lowered to one leg, kneeling before the princess. "Princess Zelda, my apologies." 

Zelda felt her heart drop. She was more entranced by Link in just a few minutes than she had been by any other suitor the entire night. And just like that, the façade she created with Link popped, glimmers of resentment and frustration bursting into her face like a cold ocean wave. Any time there was an opportunity for Zelda to experience independent thought, independent action, independent feelings -- her royal responsibilities came crashing in, reminding her that she would never be truly independent, never truly autonomous. 

“Who is this?” Impa asked, raising an eyebrow at the bowed man in the garden. “Was he threatening you, Princess?”

"No!" Link burst out, his head snapping up. "No, I am to be a knight, I would never threaten the Royal Family."

“Not at all,” Zelda murmured, her eyes still transfixed on Link. He refused to meet her gaze, his eyes firmly cast towards Impa. She felt her heart twinge with frustration, both at Link for turning so formal, and Impa for ruining her one moment of joy from the night. “We were just finishing. I shall join you in the hall.”

Impa stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. She gave the Princess an inquisitive look, raising an eyebrow at her as Zelda neared the door. But Zelda just shook her head, signifying both her defeat and her unwillingness to discuss what had transpired (or almost transpired…) just a few moments ago.

“It was nice to meet you, Link,” Zelda tossed over her shoulder, refusing to look back. ”Perhaps next time, you will ask for permission before entering a restricted area of the castle.” She hoped Link could hear the ice in her voice as she exited the garden -- though, if she were being honest, she only hoped that he would not hear the way her voice cracked as she fought off frustrated tears.

\-----

Wellllll hello there, everyone! Hope you enjoyed chapter 1 of "Of Courtship & War." It's my first Zelink fic, so I would love to hear any comments, feedback or thoughts that you have!! Tell me, where do YoOuUUu think this story is going??? I'll give you a hint: I got inspired to write this story after re-watching the Princess Diaries 2....but of course, there will be some pretty generous creative liberties taken here. ;)

Until next time!


	2. Of Waltzing & Champagne

Zelda threw herself into the chair behind the curtain, cursing under her breath as Impa stared at her with wide eyes. “Do I even bother asking what happened?” The Sheikah said.

“No,” Zelda replied curtly, bending over to strap her sandals back onto her feet. Her toes and ankle were browned with mud from the courtyard outside, another reminder of the events that had just transpired. 

“You seem pretty upset, Princess,” Impa said, crouching in front of her. “If this man wasn’t threatening you, I’m not sure what else could be causing you to react this way.”

Zelda huffed, moving onto the straps of her second sandal. “I just…” Zelda paused, biting her lip. She just what? How could she explain to Impa all that she felt: her resentment towards her royal duties, her frustration towards Link, how she kept replaying the feeling of his bangs tickling her face over and over again in her mind...”I just wish this night would be over.”

“As do I, Princess. Trust me,” said Impa, peering out from behind the curtains to survey the room. “But the night is almost over. I believe there is just one suitor left, and then your father will conclude the night with a toast.”

Zelda finished knotting the last strap of her sandal and stood up from her chair, smoothing out her dress. She tried to calm her temper by taking a few deep breaths, reminding herself that the purpose of the ball was not to become flustered by some soon-to-be knight, but to find her kingdom a strong ally. Yes, her kingdom: she would do anything for her people, even endure one last dance with a smarmy nobleman.

“You’re right, Impa,” Zelda said, attempting her best smile at the Sheikah. “Let us proceed.” And before Impa could say another word, Zelda pushed through the curtain behind the orchestra, strolling back into the ballroom.

She had to admit, the night wasn’t completely disastrous. Her father spared no expense in making the castle look as exquisite as ever, and her guests seemed to be drunk on merriment (or maybe the champagne they had shipped in from Akkala). Either way, she was determined to make it through the rest of the night, and perhaps even enjoy the last hour or so of festivities. 

“Zelda! There you are,” King Rhoam said, appearing on Zelda’s right from his position in front of the ballroom. “How are you feeling, my daughter?”

Zelda glanced up at her father, her mouth agape. With a flute of champagne in one hand, his other on her shoulder, this was the happiest she had seen him in a decade. His body was deteriorating in his old age, likely as a result of his years of fencing and horse-back riding, and his face rarely cracked even the smallest of smiles. Yet here he was, a wide grin overtaking his lips as he surveyed the room and its occupants, swaying slightly to the music playing from behind them.

“I’m splendid,” said Zelda, a giggle threatening to escape her lips as she noticed the glossy look in her father’s eyes. Was he drunk? “And yourself?”

“Positively delightful,” he finished, beaming down at her. “Now come. There is one final man I’d like you to meet, a distant neighbor of ours to the North.”

Zelda groaned as her father gently pushed her forward, guiding her through the several waltzing bodies in front of her. The people of Hyrule all parted as the princess and king passed by, bowing towards them while whispering to each other in hushed tones. She couldn’t imagine how loud the streets of castle town would be tomorrow morning, as Hyrule’s gossip mongers would surely be shouting various re-tellings of the night’s events for weeks. Afterall, this was the first time the King had opened the castle doors since Zelda’s early teenage years. Surely, her people were curious.

“Ah, there you are!” King Rhoam exclaimed as they arrived at a small group of men, all of whom adorned garments of glistening velvet and embroidery. Zelda could tell immediately from their stances and illustrious clothing that these were noblemen -- perhaps some of the richest she had ever encountered. “Sir Antoni, my daughter.”

A man with feathery, coiffed brown hair turned to face them, eyeing Zelda and her father. He had warm brown eyes and a friendly countenance, stark white teeth shining as he smiled at the two of them. He immediately bowed, picking up Zelda’s hand and placing a kiss on it.

“Your highness,” he said, and Zelda pursed her lips into a strained smile. She had had enough courting for one night, and the way he kissed her hand only reminded her of...she quickly rid herself of the thought, shaking her head as if to erase the memory of Link’s soft touch from her mind. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise,” Zelda said, offering a polite courtesy. “Thank you for taking the time to celebrate my seventeenth birthday with the people of Hyrule.”

“It is an honor!” The man exclaimed, teeth shining. “We’ve had an excellent trade relationship with Hyrule for many years -- my late father would simply murder me if he knew I stood you up, King Rhoam.”

“Of course,” said the King, his laugh booming throughout the room. “He was quite the stickler.”

As the two of them continued to chat, Zelda took the chance to observe the man. He was tall, though a bit lanky, and his clothing suggested he hailed someplace cold, as his robes were lined with fur. He was, objectively, good-looking. Perhaps he would not be the worst person to conclude her night with.

Zelda suddenly heard her name, and her eyes snapped back towards the man, re-entering the conversation. “I’m sorry, come again?”

“My apologies,” King Rhoam said, squeezing his hand Zelda’s shoulder. “My daughter seems to always have her head in the clouds. Zelda, Sir Antoni asked if you would like to dance.”

“Oh!” said Zelda, her eyes meeting Antoni’s. He seemed a bit nervous, as if he were afraid she might decline his request. But of course, she knew her father’s intention of introducing the two of them -- and she knew saying no was not an option. “Of course.”

He offered her his arm, which Zelda took instinctively. King Rhoam’s smile widened as he watched the two of them walk to the dance floor, the orchestra taking note of the princess’s presence as they prepared for a waltz.

As soon as they arrived on the dance floor, she let go of Antoni’s arm, allowing him to spin around and face her. He stretched out his hand to her, which Zelda took -- and, after he placed a hand on her waist, the two of them began to dance, the castle’s guests watching excitedly.

“Long night, your highness?” Antoni said with a small laugh, noticing Zelda grimacing as the tempo quickened. Her feet would surely be bleeding by the night’s end.

“To say the least,” she said, a bit embarrassed that he noticed her moment of weakness. “And please, call me Zelda. I can’t stand the formalities.”

Antoni laughed again, shaking his head. “Noted. Well, Zelda, I appreciate you allowing my brothers and I to attend tonight. It’s been years since Hyrule has hosted a ball.”

“Yes, I’m afraid you’re correct,” Zelda said, allowing herself to relax a bit. Antoni seemed nice, and he was a perfectly adequate dancer. “Remind me, where does your family hail from?”

“The kingdom of Ashbury,” he said. “You likely know us for our lumber.”

“Ah yes!” Zelda exclaimed with sudden realization. “We used to frequent there when I was a child. Your winters are beautiful.”

“We do what we can to make the cold bearable,” he said with a shrug. “Although I much prefer warmer weather.”

“Luckily for us, Hyrule has many different climates,” Zelda said with a small smile. “There are deserts, beaches, grasslands and mountains -- an ideal land”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Antoni said with a small blush, his eyes looking anywhere but into hers. “Your father mentioned quite a few of Hyrule’s, ah, offerings to me tonight.”

Zelda raised an eyebrow at the man, surprised. “He did? Such as what?”

His eyes darted back down towards her, both of them still slowly moving in a circle across the ballroom floor. The waltz was nearly over. “I don’t mean to be so forward, Zelda, but your father mentioned that he was hoping to begin your courting process today.”

“What?!” Zelda exclaimed, dropping Antoni’s hand. Antoni dropped his arms to his side, panic flashing on his face. The nobility surrounding them also stopped dancing, noticing the disruption. “Why would he tell you such a thing?!”

“Ah, my apologies!” Antoni said, a blush creeping onto his nose as he bowed slightly. “All I meant was that he invited me to stay a few extra days after the ball, to perhaps spend some time together. I did not mean to offend.”

Zelda stared at him incredulously. How could her father move forward with inviting suitors to stay at the castle when she hadn’t even had time to discuss the night’s events with him?! However, as soon as she opened her mouth to speak in protest, she heard a loud ‘clink’ come from just behind her. Zelda, Antoni and the other guests turned around to face the sound, which they soon discovered was coming from King Rhoam hitting an iron dessert spoon against the side of his champagne flute.

“A toast,” King Rhoam said, eyes warm as he beamed at the people of Hyrule. “To my daughter.”

Servants fluttered around the room with small platters of champagne, passing out flutes to each guest so they could partake in the toast. Zelda waited patiently, Antoni standing awkwardly next to her as her eyes scanned the crowd in hopes of finding Impa. She was going to murder someone. However, Zelda became distracted as she caught a slight movement from the corner of her eyes, and she snapped her neck to the left. Of course -- it was Link, quietly shutting the door to the garden behind him, a flustered look on his face as he ruffled his hair. Her eyes narrowed.

“Champagne, Your Highness?” squeaked a servant, raising a small silver platter towards her. Zelda quickly turned around to the servant, her eyes glancing down at the champagne.

“Please,” she said, grabbing a flute in her right hand. She quickly downed it, her eyes tearing up slightly from the string of the bubbles. She then slammed the flute back onto the tray, smiling at the servant as she grabbed a second. “Apologies, I was thirsty.”

Antoni and the servant gaped at her, both in disbelief at what they had just witnessed. But Zelda just turned her head back towards the garden door, eyes instantly locking with Link’s. He looked caught.

The two stared at each other, anger evident in Zelda’s eyes, conflict in Link’s. The soon-to-be knight grimaced, breaking eye contact only to accept a flute of champagne from a servant. Zelda couldn’t help but grow angrier as she watched him fiddle with the glass, avoiding her gaze. She wondered if he would have the nerve to say anything else to her before the night concluded.

“To Zelda!” King Rhoam cheered, noticing that the servants had completed handing out flutes. “Hyrule’s future queen. I could not be more proud.”

“To Zelda!” The crowd repeated, clinking their glasses against each other’s. Antoni coughed loudly, and Zelda turned to face him. He smiled sheepishly and raised a glass towards her. 

“To Zelda,” he repeated slowly, catching her eye. “And, perhaps, to new beginnings?”

Zelda studied Antoni’s face, searching it for signs of deceit. However, he seemed to have no ill intentions, at least not any that she could sense; and while she was frustrated that her father had made her courtship known so hastily, she could not hold that against Antoni. After all, he was also likely receiving pressure from his own family to marry. Would it really be such a bad thing to explore the idea? At the very least, it would appease her father.

“Yes,” Zelda said slowly. She could feel Link’s eyes burning into the back of her head. She shivered, the hairs on her neck rising.

She lifted her hand, tapping her champagne flute against Antoni’s. “To new beginnings.” 

\---

So, this came out a bit shorter than what I was intending. But sometimes when you have a natural stop, you just gotta roll with it, you know?!

Also, Zelda’s ~lewk was LOOSELY inspired by Blake Lively’s 2018 Met Gala gown. That thing is gorgeous.

Next chapter will feature more Link, as well as more Zelda + Link moments. I PROMISE!! It's called slow-burn for a reason!!

What are you most looking forward to seeing from this young couple? Let me know in the comments below!

Until next time...


	3. Of Muddy Feet & Second Impressions

It had not yet been even ten hours since the ball’s conclusion, and Zelda could already sense an enormous shift in the energy throughout the kingdom. Her morning strolls through the castle’s corridors used to be filled with uneventful silence; now, Zelda could not even enter a hallway before being bombarded with inquiries and requests from servants, all who begged the same question: “What now, Princess?”

She wasn’t surprised. Her father made quite the show of parading Zelda around to every eligible suitor at the ball, and no one spread gossip as quickly and fervently as Hyrulians. She wouldn’t be surprised if the kingdom had already started taking bets on Zelda’s courtship and the future King. And who could blame them; her father had kept the inner proceedings of the castle hush for so long that the mere act of hosting a ball (which they used to do quite frequently) seemed to be pushing the kingdom towards chaos. 

“Your subjects are practically tearing each other apart trying to gather more information about last night’s event,” Impa said as she bit into an apple, the two of them sitting alone in the castle’s kitchen. The entire staff had been tasked with cleaning up the great hall this morning, which granted the two of them a moment of rare solitude. It was also one of the few places that Zelda knew her father and handmaiden wouldn’t think to look for her, which is why she had been hiding out in it for the majority of the morning.

“I can’t even imagine,” said Zelda, leaning on a wooden table in the center of the kitchen. “They don’t see their King in person for nearly three years, and then suddenly he’s hosting a ball for his daughter to find a husband. I’d be curious, too.”

“Absolutely,” Impa agreed, taking another bite from her apple. “You should have been there on my walk through town this morning -- it was a circus. Plus, your father spared no expense on the guest list -- there must have been hundreds of attendants there, all of them with different versions of the night.”

Zelda drummed her fingers against the table, bored. “And what was the most popular version that you overheard?”

“That you’re absolutely smitten with Sir Antoni,” The Sheikah said, an impish grin creeping its way onto her face. “So much so that the King himself invited him to stay at the castle.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “We spoke for a total of fifteen minutes, twenty at most. His decision to stay was entirely because of my father, and had nothing to do with me.”

“And?” Impa said, still grinning. “Do we have our next King?”

“He is…” Zelda began, trailing off. The image of Link’s blue gaze flashed behind her eyes. “...nice.”

“Well, I suppose that’s not the worst adjective you could have picked,” Impa said, shrugging. “Earlier, I saw him heading to the knights’ quarters with your father. The two of them seem to be getting along.”

“Yes, but he’s supposed to be courting me, not my father,” Zelda said, her eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. She sighed and raked a hand through her hair, which was still a bit tousled from the restless night of sleep she had. “Although, I suppose he is the best of last night’s picks. And it’s not that I want to be closed off to a betrothal -- but it’s all happening so fast, so I’m obviously feeling a bit...frazzled.”

“Naturally,” said Impa “But don’t forget, the prophecy also spoke of a chosen hero and a power within the royal bloodline. I understand your father is looking for allies in this fight against the Calamity -- but there is still hope to be found elsewhere.”

“Then why hasn’t this power come to me yet?!” Zelda said loudly, desperately. “I’ve dedicated the last few years of my life to nothing but prayer, and yet these damned Gods still haven’t deemed me worthy.”

“We must not think that way, Princess,” said Impa, tossing her now-finished apple into a nearby trash receptacle. She stood up, offering her hand to the princess from across the table. Zelda looked up at the Sheikah, and when she saw nothing but kindness and patience in her eyes, hesitantly brought her hand forward to meet hers. Impa grabbed it and pulled Zelda into an upright position, guiding her out of the kitchen.

“Come. You can help me secure the perimeter,” she said, leading them towards the castle’s right wing entrance. “I’m sure some sunshine and fresh air will brighten your spirits.”

Zelda trailed behind her wordlessly. Impa was right: pessimism would do her more harm than good, no matter how frustrated she felt. The two of them silently made their way through the castle’s interior, Impa nodding at the guards standing post next to the right wing’s tall entryway. The two guards saluted her before allowing them to pass through. 

The princess was constantly in awe at the respect her closest friend commanded from the royal guard. Despite her young age, Impa was widely known as a force to be reckoned with, which was why her father had charged her with leading Zelda’s personal security team last year. While she often resented her father’s insistence that she be heavily guarded at all times, she had to thank him -- for had he not been so determined to involve the Sheikah in her protection plan, she never would have been granted the gift of Impa’s constant companionship. The two used to see each on merely a bi-monthly basis, at most; now, they spent everyday together. Sometimes, Zelda thought that Impa even knew her better than herself.

The two of them exited the right wing, and Zelda breathed in relief when the hot sun finally hit her cheeks, her toes curling as they stepped onto soft, dewy grass. 

“Barefoot again? Oh, boy,” said Impa, huffing. “Your father will have a fit if he sees you outside like this, you know.”

And Zelda did know; her father often scolded her for leaving the castle in an inappropriate state of dress, reminding her of the scandal that would no doubt spread if the townspeople were to see her in such an informal manner. Yet here she stood, wavy hair and casual lavender frock blowing wildly in the wind, feet already collecting specks of dirt and debris -- and she could not bring herself to heed her father’s words, not when this small act of rebellion left her feeling so free.

“Good thing he is currently preoccupied by my supposed beloved,” said Zelda, grinning. 

“Still,” said Impa wearily. “The knights’ quarters aren’t too far away, and I’ve already been scolded by your father for being too lenient with you.”

“How have you been too lenient with me?” said Zelda, shaking her head. “You’ve barely let me out of your sight.”

“I know,” said Impa, glancing at the princess from the side. “Apparently, even your trips to the castle library are to be supervised from now on.” The two of them continued to walk at a leisurely pace, making their way into the green maze of the courtyard. Zelda extended her right arm, brushing her hand against the soft leaves of the maze’s shrubbery and marveling at the way they felt under her finger tips.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, Impa turned to make a left, Zelda still trailing behind her mindlessly. However, Impa abruptly stopped, causing Zelda to slam into her back. The princess stumbled backwards, caught off guard by the sudden halt in movement. 

“What is it?” Zelda said, peering over Impa’s shoulder. But the sight in front of her caused Zelda’s stomach to drop, her face immediately scorching hot -- for when Impa had turned, they had entered an opening within the courtyard that was normally vacant. 

Except, at that moment, the opening was not vacant at all. In fact, it had three occupants: King Rhoam, Sir Antoni...and Link.

“Your Majesty,” said Impa, dropping to one knee. Zelda clenched her jaw, tightening her fists at her side as her eyes darted between the three men in front of her. King Rhoam stared at his daughter, his lips tugging downward in a disappointed grimace; meanwhile, Sir Antoni stood to his left, his face flushed as he glanced at Zelda’s state of informal dress and disheveled appearance; and Link, adorned in the silver armor of the knights’ guard, stared unflinchingly at the princess, his eyes unreadable.

“Impa,” greeted the King, motioning for Impa to rise. His eyes then settled on his daughter, a deep sigh leaving his lips. “Zelda.”

“Hello, father,” said Zelda with a small curtsy, trying to keep her voice steady. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious. “Sir Antoni.”

“Princess,” said Antoni as he bowed towards Zelda, a deep blush still evident on his face. She watched as he straightened his back, noting that he appeared strikingly tall next to the Link, whose back was also bent in a polite bow. 

Her father cut the formalities with a curt, “We missed you at breakfast today, my daughter. Your handmaiden said that they haven’t been able to find you this morning.”

“How strange,” Zelda mused with faux surprise. “I’ve been in the castle all morning.”

“Is that so?” said the King, his eyes dropping to her feet. “Then tell me, dear: why do I always seem to catch you covered in mud?”

“Poor timing, mostly,” quipped the Princess, to which Impa swiftly elbowed her in the ribs. 

“I see,” said King Rhoam, bringing his hands to his forehead to rub his temples. “Well, I suppose now is as good a time as ever to introduce you to your newly appointed knight. This is Link.”

“My what?!” sputtered Zelda, eyes wide as she frantically glanced between the still-bowed Link and her father. Just like their first encounter, Link’s hair was tied back and hanging somewhat messily at the back of his neck. He appeared broader and stronger under the bulk of the knight’s armor, although she much preferred his loose dress tunic from the night prior. She couldn’t even see his hands, the hands that had grabbed her own to press his lips against in the garden last night --

“Your appointed knight,” said her father, confused at Zelda’s bewilderment. “Did you think that Impa would be your only permanent attendant?”

“I was under the impression, yes,” responded Zelda, clearly flustered. “Why is it that I am just hearing of this now?”

“Link just arrived at the castle this morning,” said King Rhoam. “He had been training at our quarters in Hateno Village to fulfill his father’s old post, but he’s proven himself to be one of the most skilled swordsmen we’ve ever encountered. I feel his duties would be wasted elsewhere, especially since you will need protection during your pilgrimages to the shrines these next few months.”

Zelda had to hold herself back from screaming. Of course. Of course Link was the most skilled swordsman throughout all of damn Hyrule. Because why not? Why wouldn’t he be? Why wouldn’t the man that Zelda had shamelessly flirted with the night prior be the very same man assigned to her company for the indefinite future?

“And what of the other champions?” said Zelda, gritting her teeth. “Are they not capable of maintaining my protection?”

“Zelda, let us not discuss such matters in front of our guests,” said King Rhoam, clamping a hand on Antoni’s shoulder. Antoni smiled shyly, still unsure of whether he should be averting his eyes from the princess or turning to face her. He was authentic royalty through and through, Zelda thought; only someone raised in a truly rigid household would feel awkward seeing a princess in just a simple frock instead of her formal-wear.

Zelda wanted to fight back. She wanted to demand that her father stop withholding information from her about her own well-being. But instead, she lowered her gaze to stare at her arms, which were still crossed tightly across her chest.

“I apologize for interrupting, Your Highness,” said Antoni, taking a step towards the princess. “But your father was showing myself and this knight around some of the lesser known areas of the castle grounds’. The astral observatory is particularly beautiful.”

“Thank you,” murmured Zelda, unsure of what to say next. She felt incredibly odd speaking to Antoni while Impa, Link and her father watched. Luckily, Antoni did not seem to mind, and he continued to speak.

“Your father mentioned that you’re quite the student, too,” he said with a kind smile. “With his permission, I’d love to make use of the observatory tonight and hear more about Hyrule’s constellations and folklore.”

“Of course,” said King Rhoam. “I will have a servant set up a small dinner there.. But please bring Impa and Link with you to chaperone.”

“Chaperone?!” Zelda squeaked, her face now reddening in both embarrassment and horror. She had never cursed the Gods more in her life than this moment, this dreadfully painful, sick, humorless moment.

“Yes, chaperone. Speaking of, Impa: I believe you and I need to have a word about your leniency as Zelda’s head of protection,” said the King, eying Impa up and down before he turned around to exit the greenery. “Link, please escort Zelda back to her bed chambers so she can properly prepare for the day,” he said with a grunt. “Antoni, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying Impa and I to the throne room, that would be splendid.”

“Of course,” said Antoni. He bowed at the Princess. “I look forward to seeing you tonight.”

She attempted to smile at him, although she was sure it appeared more as a wince than anything else. As soon as Antoni turned his back towards her, Zelda clutched Impa, sinking her nails into her forearm.

“Please don’t leave me,” Zelda begged, her voice coming out in a frantic whisper. “I’ll throw you into Death Mountain if you do.”

“I would rather Death Mountain than another scolding from the King,” Impa hissed, removing the claw-like grip Zelda had on her arm. “But my hands are tied.”

Zelda watched in utter devastation as King Rhoam, Sir Antoni and Impa began to exit the greenery, their retreating figures quickly disappearing as they made a sharp turn out of the maze. Zelda and Link now stood alone, the unmistakably tension looming ominously like a raincloud before a storm.

“Your highness --” said Link hesitantly, his voice not louder than a murmur.

“Don’t,” interrupted Zelda, her jaw clenched tightly as her eyes snapped towards his in a glare. “Don’t.”

The two of them stood merely feet apart, and Zelda took the opportunity to take in Link’s appearance. He seemed calmer now that the two of them were alone, his shoulders visibly relaxed and posture less rigid. However, Zelda noted that the knight looked unmistakably exhausted, two purple half-moons resting just below his eyes.

“I owe you an explanation,” the knight tried again, but Zelda merely huffed and spun around, swiftly departing the same way that her and Impa had originally walked.

“No, you really don’t,” the Princess said, laughing sarcastically, “In fact, you owe me nothing. We had one conversation -- it was nothing more than pleasantries.”

“That’s not true!” Link shouted, jogging slightly to catch up with Zelda until he fell in step with her, head turned to face hers. “I’ve replayed that conversation in my head at least thirty times since last night, and…” 

“And what?” snapped Zelda, refusing to face him. “You want me to swear that I’ll never speak of it again? That I won’t tell the King we were alone, unchaperoned, during the ball?”

“No, it’s not that!” Link stammered, clearly frustrated. “Your highness, would you please just slow down for one moment?”

“Why?!” Zelda said, stopping abruptly to turn and face him. “I’ve spent my whole life attending these balls. It’s all diplomacy, and dancing, and trade deals, and -- and bullshit. I was foolish to believe that you wouldn’t fall into the same formalities as everyone else once you discovered my true identity.”

“What was I supposed to do?” argued Link, desperation clear in his voice. They were now only inches apart, and Zelda could see the clear anguish in Link’s face as he frowned. “I was honest with you from the beginning! I told you that I was coming to the ball to introduce myself to the Princess. You were the one who concealed your identity.”

Zelda opened her mouth to retort, but quickly snapped it shut. That part was true, and Zelda had to admit she felt a bit guilty. But still, she was upset, and so she placed her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow at Link. “Maybe so. But you neglected to say that you were beginning your duties the following day, or that you were in line to become the princess’ newly appointed knight. Pretty important details to leave out, no?”

Link muttered obscenities under his breath as his hand shot to the back of his head, ruffling his hair. He did that quite frequently, Zelda noted -- perhaps it was a nervous habit. “Yes. Maybe. But still -- you couldn’t expect me to know that you were...well, you. I had been trained by my father to only ever address the Royal Family with the utmost respect -- I fell into habit.”

Zelda narrowed her eyes, her green irises scanning Link’s blue ones for signs of dishonesty. “But even after Impa revealed my identity -- you chose not to tell me.”

Link opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, as he was seemingly unsure of what to say. He lowered his hand from the back of his head and pursed his lips together in a tight line, opting for silence. Several beats passed.

“Everyone seems to think that they know what’s best for me,” said Zelda after a few moments, the heat of her anger dissipating and leaving only lingering resentment behind. “And yet, no one seems to ever ask what I think is best for me.”

“I don’t believe...” Link began slowly, clearly mulling over his response in his head. He paused, cleared his throat and started again. “I can imagine that you’ve been faced with this situation several times before in your life, and I did not consider your viewpoint.” He lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

She stared at him, blinking blankly. Link’s face showed no signs of frustration anymore -- in fact, she saw only defeat in his eyes, perhaps even a bit of desperation as he tried to defuse the situation. She had to commend him for maintaining his composure and attempting to rectify the situation, as Zelda had made no such effort to do either.

“I forgive you,” she said hesitantly, because really, what else was she to say? She knew it was unfair for Link to take the brunt of her current frustrations, but Zelda was just so...angry. Angry at her father for inviting a stranger to stay at the castle to court her, angry at Impa for abandoning her when she needed her (although she knew her friend had no choice), and angry at herself. 

She felt foolish for letting her emotions get the better of her last night with Link. Why did she become so immediately invested in this man after just one moment alone with him? Zelda rarely interacted with others around her age, so at first she thought that maybe it was just the excitement of a new acquaintance. But in the deepest corners of her heart, she knew that was not the truth. She knew the truth was something entirely scarier, something she wasn’t quite ready to come to terms with.

She was attracted to Link. Attracted to his quiet, calm demeanor, his soft smile, his striking eyes; attracted to the way he said her name, his voice low and a bit husky, likely worn from years of training and shouting; attracted to the way his body moved, all taut muscles and strong arms, the way his calloused hands had held hers, had constantly traveled to his head to mess up his hair, the same hair that had tickled her cheeks and forehead as they stood just inches apart from each other last night; and she was attracted to him, his presence, his energy, his being. 

Zelda could not help her stomach from twisting uncomfortable every time he so much as glanced in her direction, his gaze magnetic. Foolish, she thought. Yes, she was a fool, indeed.

Link nodded, accepting her response. The two of them quietly continued their ascent to the princess’ bedchambers, both silent and deep in thought as Zelda guided them through the castle’s winding halls and stairways (for Link did not yet know his way). When the two of them finally arrived at her room, there were a handful of handmaidens already waiting for her, two of them drawing a bath while another prepared her evening dress.

“I will stand guard until you’re ready,” said Link, bowing at the princess. “Please let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you,” Zelda murmured, blushing -- for she couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at the thought of Link standing on the other side of her bedchamber as she bathed and dressed. This would definitely take some getting used to, she thought.

“Of course,” Link responded quietly before clearing his throat. “I, erm...thank you. For accepting my apology earlier.” He looked up at the princess, meeting her eyes with uncertainty. “Sir Antoni. He is...nice.”

Zelda had to laugh to herself. If only Antoni knew how few exciting adjectives there were to describe him. “Yes, he seems friendly. I haven’t spent much time with him, though.”

“I suppose that’s why Impa and I are to chaperone you tonight at the observatory,” Link said, the corner of his mouth twitching downward in a slight frown. He looked displeased, although he was clearly trying to hide it. 

The thought of Link being unhappy with her and Sir Antoni’s plans made her mind race. She had been so consumed in her own thoughts that she didn’t even think to consider Link’s. What if -- Zelda felt heat rise to her face -- what if she wasn’t a complete fool? Was it possible that LInk had felt this magnetism, too?

But the princess quickly caught herself, shaking her head and biting her lip. It did not matter how Link felt, or even how she felt, for that matter. Their connection from last night was based on a lie, a false pretense that the two of them were, perhaps, normal; that in the imaginary world they had created in the courtyard, they were both just a man and a woman, chatting and flirting carelessly as young people did. But that world was, of course, false. She was not normal, and apparently, neither was Link. Their connection -- regardless of whether or not it existed -- held no merit in their reality. In this reality -- Zelda’s heart sunk as she acknowledged this truth -- they stood no chance.

Zelda tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear, still gnawing on her lip between her teeth. This would take some getting used to, indeed.

“Well, thank you for accompanying me,” said Zelda, glancing up at Link. “I’m sorry you have to stand guard outside. It’s quite a boring post, if you ask me.”

“Not at all, Princess,” said Link, attempting a small smile. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

The two shared one last look, tension palpable as they faced each other outside of her bed chamber. Then, Zelda nodded solemnly, turning to walk into her room and quickly close the door behind her, unable to bear even one more glance at the young knight. She sighed and pressed her forehead against the door, her handmaiden gently coaxing her from behind to begin washing up for dinner. But if Zelda had been in the hallway instead of her bedchamber, she would have been able to see Link frozen in the same position, slumped against the same door, forehead pressed against the same wood, the same longing sigh leaving his lips.

\------

I hope the 8-page long interaction between Zelda and Link makes up for the fact that they just STARED at each other ONCE in the last chapter!!!! It’s called slow burn for a reason, baby!!!!

I know that it’s canon for Zelda to dress casually and go off on her own buuuuut I just finished watching Bridgerton and I really like the idea of a more formal Royal cadence in Hyrule. Makes it all feel a bit more dramatic and ~sexy~, no?? What do you all think??

Thank you so much to the people who have commented on this story and messaged me privately on Tumblr!! It’s been soooo fun to hear your predictions and your positive feedback literally makes me want to cry from happiness and send you all flowers and puppies and chocolates and balloons. Seriously!! You are all so encouraging and amazing, so thank you so much!!

Until next time!!


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